


Billionaire's cake

by everythingispoetry



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Baking, Coulson Lives, Donuts, Fluff, Inspired by food, Jarvis knows everything, M/M, Missing Scene, Pictures of food inside, Recipes, Slow Build, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:36:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingispoetry/pseuds/everythingispoetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Phil gets to eat something baked by Tony, it's purely accidental. The other times - not so much.<br/>Or: a story about a relationship that starts with donuts and doesn't end because of donuts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can find this one over at [my tumblr](http://concreteandsun.tumblr.com/), too, again.

 

**December 2010**

 

‘You’re just – you’re _insufferable,_ Mister Stark,’ Coulson states, loosening his tie a bit in perfectly calm and controlled movements, but he _is_ annoyed. ‘I can’t believe you would be _that_ foolish – actually, I should have expected that, after the all the stunts you’re infamous for. It was naïve to hope you could act like an adult for once.’

‘I keep being surprised myself,’ Pepper agrees, eying Tony with resignation. ‘And I’ve been working for him for over nine years….’

‘I might ask director Fury to have a chat with you –’

‘Yes, please, Agent, I’d _love_ to see who pulls your strings, you seem like a  man who wouldn’t just listen to anyone, you know, this straight back you keep and that stone-like face? Unflappable, I can tell, and you can do undercover, you can mingle just fine, I remember seeing you on that gala, right, you blended into the crowd perfectly, if I didn’t have a world-widely recognizable face I would ask you for stealth classes –’

‘He never shuts up, does he?’ Coulson sighs. Pepper shakes her head and Tony rolls his eyes. He _does_ shut up, he can keep silent for a long time, JARVIS can attest to that, he just wants some reaction out of this man because it’s not often someone can manage to ignore Tony and his antics, like, this time, telling the world he is Iron Man.

Which could have gone more… gracefully, but it was really _something_.

‘You wouldn’t like Director Fury – and there’s some paperwork you will have to do now, Mister Stark.’

‘You’ve got forms for superheroes?’

‘We have forms for _everything_ ,’ Coulson replies icily, as if he was making a promise that Tony will personally see them all. ‘It’s just a formality.’

‘I don’t want to be part of that S.H.I.E.L.D. thing,’ Tony states, glancing at Agent’s ID badge again. ‘And the name really sucks, by the way –’

‘You don’t have to be a part of anything,’ Coulson states, his perfectly composed self again speaking between the lines – _we wouldn’t want you anyway, you are a nuisance_ – and takes a folder out of his suitcase. ‘We need to keep an eye on you, though, and this isn’t something you have a say in. I’m sure the agent who gets the task will have a lot of _fun_.’

Fun, coming from Agent, sounds like something pretty despicable.

‘I’ll make sure he does,’ Tony nods solemnly and takes his suit jacket off, since they are alone in the room. ‘Press out there?’ he asks Happy who is standing in the doorway, dark sunglasses on, lips pressed together.

‘I’ve got the Bentley in the back, boss – they are absolutely ravenous now. Wouldn’t respect a man’s privacy,’ he adds with a scowl and Tony laughs loudly. Privacy. That’s his Happy.

‘Good,’ Tony states, glancing at his watch. Two p.m. ‘Good, great, perfect, we need to be going now, we’ll go talk to the board tomorrow –’

‘Tomorrow is _Sunday_ ,’ Pepper reminds him and gets the jacket that he left on the armchair.

‘– on Monday, then, even better, that leaves me with a day and a half of a calm rest with the view of the ocean – Jarvis,’ he adds, taking his phone out and talking at it, ‘have everything I’ll need ready when I’m back, down to a smallest screw,’ he pockets the phone and turns around suddenly, clasping his hands. ‘We’ve got to celebrate, right? This is an occasion that calls for celebration – don’t give me that look, Pepper, and don’t even start saying that for me it’s every occasion – I’m sure we’ve got a few bottles of vintage Dom Pérignon somewhere in the pantry –’

‘I’m sure you do,’ Coulson murmurs impatiently, but Tony manages to catch the words, and gives the man a wide smile.

‘You don’t work Sundays, right? Because working Sundays, as an actual work, _Pepper_ , my workshop doesn’t count, it’s like a blasphemy, people need time to unwind and have a drink or two or a an all-American dinner in front of the tv or something – you could come over, Agent, have a glass of champagne or two, maybe it’s loosen your tongue and help you tell me some interesting secret stories – no, wait, it wouldn’t,’ Tony sighs and Coulson takes advantage of the one second of silence.

‘It’s none of your concern if I work Sundays, Mister Stark,’ he says, buttoning the last button of his jacket. ‘All I need is to have this paperwork done ASAP –’

‘Oh!’ Tony exclaims happily. He is, possibly, acting a bit over the top at the moment, but he’s just told the world that he is a superhero, so he does have the right to be excited, right? ‘Thanks. Thank you. Happy – let’s go, now, no time to loose, Saturday is passing.’

Happy walks out of the room and Tony after him, putting his sunglasses on. Two sets of steps follow.

‘ _Mister Stark_ ,’ Agent’s now slightly angry voice calls from behind; Tony turns around but keeps moving, only walking backwards now, hand clasped behind his back.

‘Yes?’

‘I need this paperwork. Now.’

‘Well, you’ll get it sooner if you tag along,’ Tony offers with a smile and turns around again, catching up with Happy who is smirking slightly. He really is Tony’s favorite.

In the end Agent does get into the Bentley and goes to Malibu with Tony and Pepper – Pepper keeps thanking him for his help at the Arc Reactor unit, they talk in low voices while Tony pretends to do something on his phone and listens to their words closely. He's worried about Pepper, she shouldn't have been involved in the whole mess.

As soon as the doors open and they walk in – Happy stays outside, that’s what he prefers – Dummy rolls up to Tony with a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne inside. The bot out of workshop is not such a great idea, but Tony can keep lecturing both his kids for later – and it’s kind of his fault. It’s not like Jarvis has his own hands.

‘Thanks, baby,’ Tony pats Dummy’s sensors and takes the bottle out of the ice. ‘Well, why are you so stiff? Come on, relax a bit, we’re celebrating,’ he adds and takes a few steps back not to get any of the possible – okay, very likely – champagne on Agent’s polished shoes. It’s all the fun opening the bottle the way it overflows with bubbles and gets Tony’s sleeves and shoes all wet.

Coulson is staring at him with his head cocked slightly, as if wondering if this is something normal in this house.

‘I do that,’ Tony replies to the unsaid question and pours the champagne into the glasses.

‘Yes, he does that a lot, _unfortunately_ ,’ Pepper agrees, but takes the glass without hesitation. Agent takes his glass last, as if it was going to bite him or something.

‘Well, to Iron Man!’ Tony toasts and raises his glass before bringing it to his lips. Coulson only takes a sip of his champagne and starts turning the glass in his hands – it’s pretty cute, actually, Tony decides. He wouldn’t expect this little tick from such a restrained man.

As soon as Tony drowns his glass and puts it on the tray Dummy is still holding, Phil produces that folder with paperwork again and hands it to Tony who shrugs slightly and takes a step back, putting hands in pockets. ‘Just leave them on the table, I’ll go find something to eat, okay, there must be something to eat, we can’t drink on empty stomachs –’

‘In your house?’ Pepper asks mockingly, but Tony ignores her and rushes into the kitchen. He doesn’t fancy explaining his _peeve_ at the moment. Or ever.

One long look around the kitchen assures Tony that Pepper is right, as always, there isn’t any _proper_ food, but there _is_ a tray of gourmet donuts that Tony baked yesterday. Very few people have been lucky enough to be privy to this information, but when Tony needs a relaxing change of scenery, he goes up to the kitchen and bakes. And he’s really good.

So when he brings the tray of neat and lovely donuts to the living room, he finds Coulson and Pepper sitting on the sofa and the man’s eyes seems to be shining all of sudden.

Hmm. Who know Agent was a secret sweets fan?

‘Bon appétit,’ Tony says with a smile, placing the tray in front of them and pouring himself another glass of champagne, and then sends Dummy away. Pepper takes one of the donuts straight away, Coulson is a bit more reluctant, but it’s a curious reluctance. Tony sits down on the other sofa and starts babbling something unimportant, pretending to flick through the papers in the folder – there are four forms and a few spares, just in case, Agent is of course organized like that – but in reality he is glancing up at the man to see his reaction.

He knows that the glaze is pure sweetness, the sugar on top adds a little bit of crunchiness. The donut itself is light as air but moist; the caramel rich and bitter, leaving a nice aftertaste on the platelet, contrasting perfectly with sweet but slightly sour strawberries. What more can a man dream of?

Coulson chooses his donut slowly, methodically and subtly eliminating them one by one, as if it was some kind of a quest, and in the end puts the one that Tony would have chosen himself, too, on his plate – not biting in right away, just letting himself analyze the pastry, letting himself feel the scent, and only after ten seconds he takes a bite and closes his eyes.

Tony smirks slightly, looking down at the files to hide his grin. It’s just fun, a very satisfying fun, to know that someone likes something you made with your own hands.

And Agent didn’t really peg him for a sweets guy, so that’s a very nice surprise. All kinds of blackmail, all kinds of bribes that won’t work because the man is too smart and wouldn’t be fooled for too long…

‘Tony, could you _please_ wash your fingers and not lick them if you’re going to fill those forms now?’ Pepper asks suddenly, glaring at Tony accusingly, and he realizes that he’s been in fact licking the remains of the pink icing from his fingers.

‘Pepper,’ Tony whines and makes a face, but doesn’t bother to get up. He just takes the pen in his left hand and starts writing. Full name, boring, date of birth, boring – S.H.I.E.L.D. surely has all the data already – codename? Oh. That’s nice. Tony writes _Iron Man_ and takes a moment to marvel at how nice it looks, official, in his swirly handwriting. Even if the name is still wrong, but Gold-titanium Alloy Man would be really bad for the press.

There is some data that Tony doesn’t remember – why does everyone suddenly want his social security number? – and leaves the line blank for Pepper to fill. It takes him ten minutes to finish and he pretends not to listen the light conversation between Pepper and Agent, and tries not to smirk when she persuades him to have another donut.

‘Done,’ Tony says triumphantly when he finishes the last form; this is much more exciting than his usual Stark Industries paperwork. Pepper doesn’t even ask, just takes the papers and the pen out of Tony’s hand and finishes them for him.

‘I’m happy to see you’re enjoying my donuts,’ Tony tells Agent cheerfully, wiping his hand in a napkin. Pepper grins subtly. Coulson blinks.

‘You made the –’

‘I’ve got many secrets,’ Tony whispers conspiratorially, leaning over the table. ‘You know two of them, consider yourself a lucky man.’

Agent _almost_ smiles at that – he doesn’t really but Tony knows he wants to.

Somehow, Tony doesn’t have to meet with Director Fury in the end.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipe for donuts is [here](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/06/simple-but-fancy-baked-donuts.html) in case anyone is interested :)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Let me know if you enjoyed this little thing!


	2. 2

**May 2011**

 

Fury asks if Tony remembers Agent Coulson in his serious voice and Tony is pissed at the man, but at the same time he really wants to ask _how could I forget_? Also – keeping him prisoner in his own home? Only that they’ve got the lithium dioxide and it’s a really, really good stuff.

So. Okay, a compromise.

‘Yeah,’ he admits, glancing at Coulson, keeping a look of confusion on his face.

Fury leaves and Natalie – Natasha, whatever – goes away, too. Tony turns to Coulson, let’s act like Tony Stark and try… coffee. Yes. See how it goes.

He approaches Agent as he speaks to stop just a foot away from the man who doesn’t step back, just puts a pleasant face and threatens to tase him.

No Starbucks run then.

‘Oh no no no, I get it, o-kay, you refuse to cooperate,’ he calls after Coulson who’s leaving the room. Agent stops and waits for elaboration. ‘I’d totally give you my AmEx to pay for coffee for all of your goons – you peg me for a double espresso with chocolate and a hint of hazelnut guy – the perfect American coffee for everyone, all the jazz, but since you’re refusing me, meet me downstairs in five? I need to put on some clothes, if you don’t mind, the dressing gown is getting a bit too twentieth century for me –’

‘Is it important?’

‘Oh yes, it really is,’ Tony states solemnly and runs down the other stairs, leaving Howard’s case in the damaged room.

Five minutes later Tony’s wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, looking more like a twenty first century man, when Coulson enters the workshop. Tony still feels a bit underdressed compared with Agent, which is pretty strange given his total lack of concern about social norms.

‘I was under the impression that it’s important for you to quickly find a solution to this situation,’ Agent says flatly, standing a few steps in front of the door with his hands clasped behind his back.

‘Um, it’s not like whatever I discover in the case can’t wait a few minutes,’ Tony replies and looks around – JARVIS must have had the bots clean it, curious. ‘So, coffee.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Coffee,’ Tony replies and walks up to the kitchenette. ‘You didn’t let me send your goons to get us some coffee, I’m gonna make us coffee. You look like you could use a cup, no offence, just you know, kinda worn out –’

‘ _You_ are wearing me out, Stark,’ Coulson states, moving a few steps closer to Tony, who’s looking for his favorite beans in a cupboard.

‘The pleasure is all mine,’ Tony smirks and grabs the violet package, turning around at the same time as he closes the cupboard. Coulson has an unreadable expression on his face, but with a tiniest hint of amusement. ‘So, now you’ve got to suffer, you’re not getting an all-American coffee, I’m making a proper Italian one in a Moka pot, deal with it,’ Tony keeps on babbling as he grinds the beans quickly and then assembles the pot and puts it on the stove. Coulson seems slightly surprised by the fact that there’s an actual gas burner and not something more _modern_ , but the coffee is best made on a real flames.

‘Those your robots?’ Agent asks after a moment, when the water’s  being slowly heated and Tony’s taking out two cups. He doesn’t have to look around, he can hear Dummy and You chirping somewhere in the depths of the workshop, probably hiding behind a car or something. At least Butterfingers is charging so he won’t do any mayhem with his older siblings.

‘Yeah,’ he replies, tapping his fingers on the countertop. ‘Though sometimes I could swear they’re useful for making smoothies and that’s all –’

‘It looks like they are playing some kind of a game –’

‘Blame JARVIS. He taught them. They were much better behaved before him.’

‘I refuse to acknowledge what you’ve just said, sir,’ the A.I. offers calmly, bringing smirk to Tony’s lips. S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t disable him completely, just cut off his connection with satellites. Well, or they think they did and Tony’s not going to enlighten them.

‘Yeah, keep being a smartass,’ Tony mutters to himself and the water starts to boil, the scent of coffee slowly filling the room. ‘Sit down, Agent, make yourself at home, it’ll be just a sec,’ he adds aloud and hears Coulson’s steps. He didn’t really expect Agent to actually listen to him, but it’s nice.

He pours the coffee and then adds a few drops of chocolate syrup to both cups, but then, after a second of hesitation, adds yes a little bit of vanilla one to Agent’s. Maybe not a hazelnut man after all.

‘Smells nice, doesn’t it? I know it does, you have to admit, I’ve got the best beans in the world, the aftertaste – don’t look at me like that, I know, you actually have to taste it before you can admit I’m right, given the kind of a person you are – perfect,’ he says quickly, the words almost tangled, and offers the man his cup. Coulson takes it without hesitation and without a _thank you_.

‘Oh,’ he breathes after the first sip, and looks up to meet Tony’s eyes. ‘This is…’

‘Amazing? Incredible? Tasty, breathtaking, fantastic, wait – wholesome? Hmm?’

‘A good coffee,’ Agent finishes and Tony pouts theatrically, grumbling a bit. ‘No, it’s heavenly, in fact, Mister Stark,’ Coulson adds and smiles. Like, _really_ smiles.

And it’s so darn cute and hey, Tony Stark doesn’t _not_ use words like cute, it’s just not in his repertoire, he can joke and technobabble and all that, but no _cutes_.

Only that Agent really is just that.

‘Well, obviously, _I_ made it,’ he says a few seconds too late and brings his cup to his lips.

‘No hazelnut,’ Coulson points out, raising an eyebrow, when he’s drank his coffee – slowly, tasting each sip at his tongue.

‘Figured it wasn’t you in the end, really, you know, too earthy and overbearing for someone as bland as you, I thought, then I got a look at you and you know, your shirt, your tie, you had a dark one and when I went to dress up you changed into a creamy-vanilla color and it just stuck me –’ he stops suddenly, realizing that he was not intending to say that last sentence at all. Vanilla tie, bravo.

Coulson blinks, looking a bit taken aback – and then laughs and Tony almost drops his cup; he’s not good at this people stuff so he just stares, basically, for a few moments that it takes Agent to stop laughing.

‘You certainly are one of a kind, Stark,’ he comments, looking vaguely amused by Tony’s reaction.

 _Your fault_ , a voice in Tony’s head says _, you wanted the coffee so deal with it now_.

‘Yeah, thanks, I’ll take it as a compliment like I’m sure it was intended, how lovely of you, maybe this home arrest won’t be as terrible as I’ve stared to dread it would be, at least the Pirate is gone, and Natalie-sha-something, she was much nicer before I knew she’s a spy, we’re here alone –’

‘Don’t you ever shut up?’

‘It’s been noted, under extreme circumstances –’

‘Define _extreme_ ,’ Agent states firmly, setting the cup on a small table and standing up, ‘because it’s been about fifteen minutes and I’m already getting tired of your endless babble – I wonder how does Miss Potts deal with you.’

‘She’s grown immune with time,’ Tony supplies, standing up, too, and walking up to the kitchenette to put his cup into the sink. One of the bots could do it for him, but he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He is feeling somehow… awkward. Ah. And irrationally tense.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have ten years,’ Agent says, standing by the sofa. Tony snickers, trying to think of something to do, but there is no way he could escape this situation, not unless he set the workshop on fire or something similarly drastic but that would slow down the work he’s supposed to be doing and therefore reduce his chances to stay alive considerably – not a good idea. Not when he could see a few more _cute_ things in his life.

Screw it, he doesn’t even know if Howard’s magical case _does_ contain the answer and he could be just as well dead in a month –

– so he turns around decisively, takes a few quick steps and presses his lips to Agent’s before the man can back away.

They are warm and bittersweet from the coffee and absolutely luscious – okay, he probably should start thinking about the sexual harassment lawsuit he’s going to have his lawyer deal with, but he can’t concentrate on anything other than Coulson’s soft skin and the fact that the man doesn’t _back away_.

In fact, he seems to enjoy himself, and his hands land on Tony’s hips a moment later.

‘I think you can call me Phil now,’ Agent says when they break apart finally, their eyes sparkling and their faces probably equally full of apprehension and delight at the same time.

‘Phil,’ Tony tries – and it sounds good.

‘Tony,’ Phil states, raising one eyebrow, and Tony kisses him again, this time letting his hands wander to the man’s waist, too, and wrap around his muscular body.

‘If I knew S.H.I.E.L.D. offered this,’ Tony mumbles into Phil’s ear when they’re done kissing, ‘maybe I’d have asked to play in your boyband –’

‘I shouldn’t have –’ Phil tries to say something that Tony can’t be bothered to hear, really.

‘It’s not like anyone’s gonna know,’ Tony smirks. ‘Right?’

‘Okay,’ Phil agrees with much less resistance than Tony would have expected from him.

‘Seduction with coffee, by Anthony Edward Stark,’ Tony muses aloud, taking a step back and staring at Phil who returns the gaze, looking pretty amused. The room’s still filled with the bitter burnt aroma.

‘The donut did a thing, you know, last year?’ Phil tells him pensively. ‘Gave me a … positive vibe, about you. I like donuts a lot, the homemade are always better than the commercial ones, I just don’t have time between saving the world and terrorizing young agents –

‘A donut,’ Tony suddenly remembers something and beams at Phil. ‘Sit down and wait for a moment? For me?’ he asks, gets out of the workshop and runs up to the kitchen as quickly as possible. Yes. That was quite rude, JARVIS would say if he didn’t know better than to speak up, to offer a guest a coffee and nothing else.

‘Here you go,’ Tony tells Phil maybe three minutes later, when he’s back downstairs, holding a tray with two plates.

‘Is this –’

‘Brownie with vanilla ice cream, you know, like the coffee. Chocolate and vanilla? Just try.’

Phil does try and he almost moans when he swallows the first bite. Tony eats a piece himself, observing Agent closely; they both sit down and eat the dessert slowly, in silence.

‘You’ve got me now,’ Phil says in the end. ‘I just don’t get it, _when_ do you –’

‘It’s ten minutes,’ Tony cuts in, sitting on the sofa the way his and Phil’s legs are touching. ‘Then cake to oven, ice cream to a machine and I can go back to Iron Man. A matter of good logistics and all that…’

‘Tony,’ Phil says, his voice more serious now. ‘You’re not just… joking, right?’

‘No, not at all,’ Tony assures him, biting his lip. ‘It’s just that I’m kind of dying and I’m not in a mood and condition for clever flirting, so forgive me, I’ll be straightforward – I’d like to do _something more_. Preferably in my bedroom – preferably now –’

‘I’ve never thought I’d say this, but – why not,’ Phil say, loosening his tie.

‘No strings?’

‘No strings.’

‘My man,’ Tony laughs and kisses Phil again and takes him upstairs.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find [the recipes for brownie & ice cream here](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/06/brownie-with-vanilla-ice-cream.html) :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed yourselves!


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the timeline here a smallest bit, to make it fit my story, please forgive me if it bothers you, but I've always thought that building a particle accelerator in less than a day, as IM2 indicates, is a bit too much even for Tony :)

**June 2011**

 

‘I must say, as a newly-welcomed consultant, I’d expect to see more of the black suits, but I didn’t expect _thi_ s _,_ ’ Tony says, waving at Coulson, who is leaning against a black car.

‘ _This_?’

‘You, here, now? Weren’t you in New Mexico?’

‘I was.’

‘Hmm,’ Tony murmurs, putting on his sunglasses. ‘So, Mexican secret stuff’s done?’

‘Yes, for now the case is closed.’

‘For now,’ Tony repeats, walking up to Phil and standing next to him. ‘Did you have fun?’

‘Land of enchantment, indeed. Terrible powdered donuts sold on gas stations.’

‘Is that a suggestion?’

‘It’s merely and observation,’ Agent replies without missing a beat. ‘Though we did have a few… coffee-related incidents. You don’t want to know.’

‘I probably do, but you’re a super-secret spy, I got the memo –’

‘Your A.I. has the access to S.H.I.E.L.D. systems, right?’ Phil asks quietly, almost in a whisper. Tony raises an eyebrow and considers.

‘Via satellite connection, yes,’ he admits in the end, suddenly deciding that he should trust Phil. ‘But I know you keep about 80% of your data away from being accessed via the internet.’

‘I can neither confirm nor deny –’

‘You’re mean,’ Tony sighs, looking around with more curiosity. ‘So, where are you headed, agents? We had a nice chat with Fury but I don’t see him anywhere and since you’re his lieutenant or PA, difficult to tell from distance, shouldn’t you be like, going somewhere?’

‘I came here straight from New Mexico,’ Phil admits, his eyes are shining. ‘Debriefed on the way here and I’ve got a three days off now. I had a fortnight of op and cleanup without a break.’

‘So you came to Los Angeles for what, holidays?’

‘You could say so.’

Tony takes a step back, cocks his head, stares at Phil for a few seconds with a assessing look, and laughs.

‘You’re such a cute thing,’ he states, remembering the last time they talked, when Phil told him he was leaving to New Mexico, two weeks ago. _Secret stuff._ ‘Coffee? Unless the incident in New Mexico made you somehow despise the brew of gods –’

‘That just won’t happen,’ Phil cuts in, shaking his head. ‘Ever.’

‘I share the sentiment – chocolate and vanilla?’

‘Surprise me,’ Phil replies quickly. Tony gestures at him to follow and then tells Phil to get into his Jaguar.

‘So, do we need to talk about something?’ Tony asks as they ride out of the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s perimeter; there’s no indication that anyone is securing the area, but Tony’s pretty sure someone is observing from afar. ‘Or we just – you know?’

‘You’re so eloquent, Tony,’ Phil laughs, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the backseat, them unbuttons the top two buttons of his crisp shirt. He’s not wearing a tie today, Tony notices, glancing briefly at the man. He himself is wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans, not very smart, but at least it’s not grease-stained – if he knew Phil would be there, he’d wear something nicer. A leather jacket. Everyone likes leather jacket, it’s like one of the constants of the universe.

‘I could put my eloquence to use, but then you’d have to listen to me talking for endless amounts of time and most of it you probably wouldn’t understand, unless you’ve got a secret Physics doctorate – hey, by the way, what did you study?’

‘You could ask JARVIS to check for you –’

‘I don’t spy on people,’ Tony says, sounding slightly offended. Phil raises one eyebrow and stares. ‘Okay, sometimes I do, but it’s for different purposes, besides, you’re here already so you could as well tell me?’

‘Major in international affaird, minor in fine arts –’

‘Ooh, fine arts, like Pepper!’ Tony exclaims, clapping his hands, and completely ignores Phil’s appalled look. ‘What? You must like Pepper, right? You’re both so… sophisticated. Elegant. Grown-up.’

‘Is that something bad?’ Phil asks, frowning slightly and Tony looks at him again, taking eyes off the road again and enjoying Phil’s sudden silent fear for his life. Though Agent should know better; JARVIS _is_ looking out for the car for Tony.

‘Um, not bad? Just, you know – alien to me. I admire.’

‘Good.’

‘But I am able to take care of myself, contrary to your friend wrote in that report –’

‘Natasha?’

‘Yes, whatever the name is, she wrote the whole thing as if she didn’t take the fact that I was _dying_ into consideration, I’d say I did pretty damn good for someone who was just a few weeks away from death, and –’

‘Concentrate on the road,’ Phil tells him, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up a bit. ‘I was going to tell you: it’s good to see you _not_ dying for once. You look… healthier.’

‘Just tell me I’m such a handsome bastard,’ Tony laughs, but it’s more of covering his own confusion than real joy. It’s – he’s never been good at people and he’s not sure how to proceed with Phil. They spent three days together, that’s how long it took Tony to collect all the elements for the prismatic accelerator. Three days of pretending to call each other with surname, scowling, coffee, and sex. They didn’t talk about anything, didn’t _verbalize_ anything, so it’s pretty tough to just guess where exactly they are between fuck buddies and lovers, ‘cause that’s the only scale that Tony’s ever used in his life.

‘You _are_ a handsome bastard,’ Phil repeats with a small smile and Tony grins widely. It sounds so good coming from Phil.

Maybe Tony has unintentionally took a few steps more towards _lover_ than he’s expected.

‘I like the look, you know,’ Tony makes a vague gesture at Phil’s chest, letting go of the driving wheel _again_ , ‘without the tie. You don’t look so uptight in it.’

‘Well, coming from you, Tony, I know it’s a compliment,’ Agent says, calling Tony by his name for the first time today and something stirs inside Tony’s gut at the sound of it, but he does his best job at ignoring it.

‘No chance you’ll tell me what you were up to in the land of enchantment?’ Tony changes the subject, intentionally diverting Phil’s attention from the emotional things.

‘Think I’d give you secrets above your pay grade just for a single compliment?’

‘Does that mean you want more of them?’

‘You are impossible,’ Phil declares amusedly, though keeps his face perfectly straight. ‘I don’t know why I even bother to put up with you –’

‘Well, I don’t know, might be the coffee? Or something?’

‘Well,’ Phil just says and pauses. Tony reads it as an invitation.

‘I’ve got something great ready back at home. It’s supposed to be for Pepper because it’s her favorite, we were going to celebrate me being a good responsible boy – don’t look at me like that, of course she doesn’t know, but she’ll forgive me everything when she sees what I’ve made – so you can join in. That is, until Pepper leaves and we can… celebrate your holiday, I’ll destroy the surprise, but you do like mint, right?’

‘Yes – how do you know that?’ Phil asks, turning his head and fixing his gaze on Tony, with that blank pleasant look that’s in fact pretty scary. ‘Been spying on me?’

‘Depends on your definition of spying?’ Tony replies, offering Phil a smile, but it doesn’t seem to work. Oops. ‘I asked someone – oh, don’t kill me with your glare, please, I’m not _dumb_ – I texted someone. It was maybe… three days ago, I wanted to be prepared, just in case, you know? Turns out it pays off – it was a text from and untraceable phone number, really untraceable, I’d know, I’m Tony Stark, right?’

‘Tell me you didn’t sign it something like _secret admirer_ , please.’

Tony bites his lips and says nothing.

‘You _did_ ,’ Phil sighs, sounding perfectly resigned.

‘Sir had me sign it _concerned citizen_ , Agent Coulson,’ JARVIS speaks up, sounding like a mean smartass he is. Tony is a bit surprised it took the A.I. that long to join in the conversation. Sometimes Tony can swear JARVIS says 80% of what Tony has in mind and he’s only left to nod. ‘He thought it was quite amusing –’

‘ _Who_ did you text?’ Phil cuts in, narrowing his eyes.

‘Well,’ Tony hesitates for a second, but he knows he’ll have to admit it anyway. ‘Someone I know that knows you pretty well?’

Phil takes a moment to say something again; in the meantime Tony has no idea what to say, he isn’t even sure he should say something, so he opens the windows and lets the ocean-scented air rush into the vehicle in crazy swirls. Only a few more minutes before they get to Malibu.

‘You texted _Director Fury_ ,’ Phil states, speaking louder so that his words can be heard among the wind. He sounds somewhere between morbidly fascinated and pretty annoyed. ‘You know that there’re very, very few people on the planet who even have the number for his phone?’

‘Blame Natashalie –’

‘Don’t tell me you pulled her in this, too –’

‘She reported to him, back when I was under the home arrest, and I had JARVIS hack her phone and save the contact list. Your phone was better protected, so I didn’t bother,’ he adds as an explanation. ‘She doesn’t know anything – wait, are you, like hiding that –’

‘I just don’t want them to know,’ Phil states, knowing perfectly what Tony was going to say. ‘It’s none of their concern, and it would just be a… paperwork problem,’ he adds just as Tony pulls up in front of the mansion’s door.

‘I thought you were the ultimate paperwork guy –’

‘I do all my paperwork, yes, but there are too many people who’d have access to the information and I don’t want my personal life on display – neither do you, I think.’

‘True,’ Tony admits, getting out of the car. Phil follows him into the house. Completely empty, silent house. ‘Time?’

‘Miss Potts won’t be here in at least four hours, sir,’ JARVIS offers immediately and Tony sighs, of course he should have remembered she has a dinner meeting after work. They could just stay home alone, boring, always works, but Tony suddenly has this greatest idea ever.

‘Since I think we’re gonna see enough of these interiors for the next few days, I say we go out now and come back when Pepper does – I don’t know about you, but I’d fancy a road trip, haven’t done one in years. We just need to grab some snacks – what do you think?’

‘Sounds okay –’

‘Leave your things in my room then, change if you want to, and I’ll get all we need.’

Phil goes upstairs and when he comes back, Tony is waiting by the car. Agent looks great and a bit strange in normal clothes, jeans and t-shirt and Tony totally _stares_ , but Phil doesn’t seem to mind.

‘I want one of those _now_ ,’ he says, snatching one cupcake from the holder in Tony’s hands. ‘Those are –’ he starts, bites in, takes a moment to savor the taste and swallows. ‘Mint and rose – I can tell why Miss Potts loves them,’ he adds, smirking, and finishes eating quickly.

‘By the way, I’m moving to New York,’ Tony offers, observing as Agent wipes his icing-covered fingers. ‘We’ll be building an arc reactor-powered tower and I need to be there for some time, flying cross-country every day would be a nuisance.’

‘S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters is in New York, as you already know,’ Phil says, smiling slightly. ‘I think we will have more possibilities to discuss our business eye to eye.’

‘Definitely,’ Tony  nods, mocking seriousness. ‘Expect to become friendly with excerpts from New York cuisine.’

‘Oh, I do,’ Phil replies before getting into the car.

Tony waits until the seatbelt is fastened and drives off, speeding down the road.

 

 

 

  
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipe for cupcakes is [here.](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/06/rose-cupcakes-with-mint-buttercream.html)
> 
> Again, thanks for reading, let me know if you liked this chapter :)


	4. 4

 

**October 2011**

 

‘Tell me again, what are you planning to build in that place where the bar was?’

‘I was thinking a strip bar or a science-oriented kindergarten,’ Tony replies, smirking, and pulls Phil inside the apartment. Stark Tower is slowly getting higher and higher and Tony, for the time being, is living in one of his apartments in New York to be nearby and oversee the works. He’s moved from California only three weeks ago, but they’ve met several times since.

‘I didn’t know you were into kids,’ Phil replies, his words muffled by Tony’s lips.

‘I’m into science, even in the form of overly curious three-year-olds – just like I used to be,’ Tony laughs, pulling away, and takes a step back. ‘What’s happened?’

Phil touches his cheek self-consciously, tracing the purple and yellow bruise.

‘We run into a problem –’

‘A problem?’ Tony prompts, gesturing at Phil to follow him onto the huge balcony. ‘Of what kind?’

‘Recruitment. It was like with Clint, all those years ago, running after some crazy youth vigilante and trying to make the boy believe that we’re not going to throw him into jail. He wasn’t too cooperative, as you may see.’

‘Landed a punch on your face, as much as I prefer your face unmarred, I must admit it’s something,’ Tony comments, half-jokingly, handing Phil some fruit juice in a crystal-cut elegant glass.

‘I wouldn’t run after someone for five days if they weren’t actually worth it,’ Phil scowls a bit, but takes the glass and drinks eagerly.

Tony observes his Adam’s apple move as he swallows with a mini smirk. It’s the beginning of October, but the weather is more Indian summer than autumn and the sun’s shining pretty strongly, hence the lunch on the balcony.

On deck chairs, because Tony does everything with style.

‘So, today you are?...’ he asks, sitting down on one of the chairs and putting on a pair of sunglasses; Phil follows his suit.

‘Nick ordered me to take a day off, given that I was declared _at risk of mild concussion_ by the medical –’

Tony likes how Phil gets more and more at ease when they are alone, calling his colleagues by their names and telling Tony stories from S.H.I.E.L.D. and from his personal life – but it’s not enough to distract him from what Phil’s word imply.

‘What _else_ did he do?’

‘Huh?’ Phil murmurs, keeping his face straight and appearing as innocent as possible. Tony knows those games.

‘What else did that damn kid do?’

‘… crashed his car into ours – don’t give me that look, Tony, do you want me to remind you what you did in Monaco a few months ago? It was just a bump, nothing more.’

‘Sure, nothing more, you’re not gonna bullshit me with _nothing_ _mores_ , I’m the master of cheap lies like that – are you fine? Any headache? Nausea? Anything?’

‘That’s exactly what was missing from my life, another person mothering me, Tony, I thought at least _you_ wouldn’t do that–’

‘Okay,’ Tony says, smiling. ‘I won’t.’

If Clint and Natasha are nagging Phil about this, Tony can stop; he’s learned that Phil’s two best agents and friends at the same time take care of Phil pretty well most of the time, since they don’t know Phil is seeing him.

If they knew, they surely wouldn’t think Tony Stark could care for someone like that anyway, Tony knows.

‘But I’m going to install sensors letting JARVIS scan a human body for any signs of illness or distress or anything, we’re already working on that –’

‘You’re exaggerating,’ Phil cuts him off, putting his glass on the small table between their chairs.

‘You’ll change your mind when the roles are reversed,’ Tony replies cheekily, pushing a plate of melon slices wrapped with prosciutto and sprinkled with red pepper.

‘You might be right,’ Phil admits around a piece of the fruit; Tony helps himself, careful not to end up with sugary spots on his shirt. Pepper likes this one. Tony doesn’t want to annoy Pepper even more than he normally does.

‘So you did catch that kid and took him in,’ Tony says after a few moment of silence, filled with chewing and biting and swallowing the delicious food.

‘Pretty much what I did since we last met, besides paperwork and trying to find a clever way to get around another series of _stupid-ass decisions_ from WSC,’ Phil sighs. Tony recognizes the virtual quote of one of Fury’s signature phrases, but it’s nice to hear it coming from Phil’s lips. ‘You?’

‘We finished the installation of the arc rector at the tower, finally. I had a mini party with Pepper, I hope you’re not jealous or something, you know she’s giggly and much less stressed out after a few glasses of champagne – actually you don’t, but I’m sure you’ll find out at some point – I’ll spare you the details, I know you have no interest in that, so yeah. There are eighty levels ready –’

‘Twelve more to go.’

‘Have I told you that already?’ Tony wonders aloud, wiping his hands on a soft napkin and pours them both some more juice. He’d prefer whiskey, but people frown a bit at drinking at noon.

‘I read in a newspaper.’

‘Spying on me, I see,’ Tony states, raising one eyebrow, but Phil’s face is unchanged. They do the same thing – fooling people – in opposite ways; Tony’s face is always expressive and his voice over the top, while Phil is always unmoved and professional. Tony is still learning to read Agent underneath that mask, and it’s certainly reciprocal.

‘The papers are really excited about your clean energy project. Are you sure it’s going to work? They’d be pretty disappointed if it didn’t,’ Phil says in the same tone as before, but Tony isn’t fooled, he notices the tiniest smirk in the corners of Phil’s mouth and a sparkle in his eyes.

‘Stop talking and eat, you’re just wasting precious fresh air that’s soon going to be lacking,’ he replies, eying the table meaningfully.

There is prawn cocktail and canapés with caviar. And breadsticks, because Tony loves breadsticks. He thought about making more things, but he knows Phil’s more into quality than diversity – and everything is better than S.H.I.E.L.D.’s mess food that most of the agents live on during their working hours and not only.

Phil snorts lightly but doesn’t say anything.

They’ve recently moved past being terribly awkward anytime between sex. It’s great – Tony is finding himself more and more drawn to Phil, however strange that might sound.

Phil can be snarky and sarcastic, just like Tony, and he has this superpower of being able to tell then Tony is bullshitting him. Every single time. At the beginning it was annoying, but for the first time ever Tony's actually discovering that being honest with each other – even if the honesty is buried by under lots of _science, sorry_ or _classified, sorry_ or _I’d prefer not to talk about that_ – is a good basis for a relationship of any kind.

Tony isn’t sure which kind of relationship this one is – but it’s good.

Pepper tells him he looks happier. She doesn’t mention healthier, because that much is obvious since Tony was recently dying for a year. But he can tell as much himself.

Tony knows they’ll have to tell Pepper, soon. She doesn’t live with him and they don’t see each other all the time, so it’s easy for her to miss Phil coming and going, but if there’s one person in the universe he’d like to tell, it’s her. Phil already said that it's okay, but Tony’s waiting for a good moment.

Hopefully it won’t take him ages.

Not much later they are finished with the lunch, but Phil’s looking at him expectantly and Tony knows exactly what Agent isn’t going to ask about.

‘I thought we could make something together, today,’ he says lightly, looking at the sunbathed New York stretching before them. Phil chuckles humorlessly. ‘What?’

‘You know I’ve lived in places without a functional oven for most of my life?’

‘You make great steak,’ Tony points out, as if it was an argument. He has the pleasure a few days earlier and Phil’s _really_ good at steaks.

‘It’s _steak_ , Tony. It’s meat, in case your genius self didn’t notice –’

‘Don’t worry, we’re not going to fail,’ he cuts in cheerfully, getting up from the deck chair – that’s not exactly easy – and stretching his back with pleasure. ‘Don’t be afraid of challenge and suspense, oh Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Pretty please?’

‘Since I actually want to eat something, I guess I don’t have a choice,’ Phil states solemnly, getting up, too, and follows Tony back into the apartment. It smells like wind and petrol inside, too, because all of the windows are open; Tony loves to feel the air’s soft pull around his neck and bare ankles.

Tony takes out everything that they need: an electronic scale, handmade of course, a madeleine pan, a bowl, a pot, a mixer, and the ingredients. It’s all placed on the counter in a short moment and then Tony gives Phil a wide smile, takes out two aprons, puts them on the table and begins to unbutton his shirt.

‘Pepper will kill me if I get this dirty, it’s her favorite shirt and she wanted me to wear it for the interview today,’ he explains innocently at Phil’s disbelieving stare.

‘You’re much too dependent on her,’ Agent comments, rolling up his sleeves. Tony is pretty disappointed, he was hoping to have more time with half-undressed Phil, but it only seems fair as he’s wearing a t-shirt underneath. Phil seems vaguely disappointed, too, but Tony decides they can leave naked cooking for another time.

‘It pays off,’ he assures Phil, putting on his apron and walking up to Phil to tie his on the agent’s back. ‘I could actually stop doing that, as long as you’ll do all my paperwork –’

‘Don’t have a robot for that?’ Phil teases, walking up to the counter and staring at the items distrustfully.

‘You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to make a robot that could forge my signature. I myself can hardly do that. Sadly my legal knows my quirks so they wouldn’t believe it’s me signing documents if the signatures weren’t crazy and random in a recognizable way. You know. Tough stuff.’

‘I’m –’

‘We’re not in rush today,’ Tony cuts in, handing Phil the pot and a stick of butter. ‘No sex today, wait ‘till next time, I’m not doing anything _crazy_ with the bruised you, you can lie all you want but I’ve hidden contusions for years and I know how to recognize someone hiding them, too – melt a hundred grams of butter for me,’ he adds, starting to sieve the flour with baking powder. Phil sighs but does as he’s told.

They’re working calmly for the next ten minutes – the only noises are the mixer’s whirr and Tony’s short commands; Phil actually does good at baking, but maybe it’s because he’s had years of practice in obeying orders. When the madeleine pan is buttered, sprinkled with flour, filled with the batter and _finally_ put into the over, they clean the bowl with their fingers and Tony ends up licking the sweet lemon-flavored batter of Phil’s lips.

The madeleines are perfectly baked after ten minutes – Phil takes them out of the oven – and good to eat after another fifteen, coming out of the pan nicely but still almost burning their fingers tongues.

‘They’re even better with some lemon glaze,’ Tony says, getting a second one from the pan. Phil smirks.

‘As if I would wait,’ he scoffs, taking the madeleine out of Tony’s hand and putting into his mouth. Well, if it’s a war – Tony grabs the whole pan and escapes to the balcony with it. Phil follows.

The little yellow cakes taste like sunshine.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the recipe for lemon madeleines [here!](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/06/lemon-madeleines.html)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading. I'll love you for feedback :)


	5. 5

**May 2012**

 

‘Welcome to the house-warming party!’ Tony greets Phil when the man steps out of the elevator onto she shiny floor of the penthouse. Phil grins, kisses Tony, and raises an eyebrow.

‘I don’t think any of what you said is true,’ he comments, ‘It’s not a house. You’ve been living here for over two weeks and I know you’ve had a party o several. With the two of us, I don’t think this qualifies as one.’

‘You’re mean – I could shove you back into the elevator and send down, if you don’t want my party.’

‘I think I’ll live,’ Phil replies, taking off his jacket. ‘But it’s three p.m. You aren’t getting drunk at 3 p.m.’

‘ _We_ are getting drunk. Not much though. I prefer you coherent.’

‘How nice of you,’ Phil says drily, looking around the room, taking in all the details of the interior decorating. Pepper’s doing, so Phil seems to like it. Modern and minimalistic, but everything fits together perfectly creating a nice atmosphere.

‘So, how was your job in the upper state?’

‘Classified,’ Phil replies quickly, making Tony snort. Phil’s been spending lots of time in a research facility, supervising as group of scientists working on the Tesseract and its possible uses, all of which Tony knows nothing about, of course. It’s just that JARVIS was curious. ‘How was the heavy lifting?’

‘Exhausting. I thought we’d be done sooner – but it’s finally finished. Everything,’ Tony offers, walking up to the bar and pouring them both whiskey on the rocks. Phil doesn’t take the glass though, just gives Tony a long look that Tony doesn’t know what to make of.

‘Phil?’

There’s a moment of silence before Agent speaks up, a bit more unsurely than usually. Tony only prays Phil’s not going to day he’s leaving for a year-long mission or something.

‘Before we do get drunk, however much, I wanted to tell you something.’

‘Go on,’ Tony prompts, putting his glass away. It lands on the counter with a soft clinking noise.

‘I was thinking, when I was away –’

‘Please don’t tell me you’re dumping me –’

‘I’m not, you idiot,’ Phil cuts in, his voice a few tones warmer. ‘I want to tell Fury about us.’

There is a moment of thick silence when they stare into each other’s eyes.

‘You want to tell Fury,’ Tony repeats Phil’s words tonelessly.

‘We told Pepper. I want to tell someone, too –’

‘Now.’

‘Yes, now,’ Phil sighs, rolling his eyes in a classic Agent way.

‘You didn’t want earlier –’

‘But I want _now_. It’s been a year since –’

‘I know, okay, I get it, okay – but why Fury? Wouldn’t Clint or Natashalie be better?’

‘They’re on missions now, and no, they wouldn’t be better. And Nick _is_ my friend –’

‘Nick Fury doesn’t have friends,’ Tony states, frowning slightly. The idea is too strange, Director just doesn’t seem like a person to have any kind of personal life, especially given that he virtually lies on the Helicarrier.

‘Yes, he does, he has me. And Maria Hill.’

‘I don’t even want to imagine how _that_ works,’ Tony groans, eying Phil’s amused face.

‘So I though, you know, that we could talk to him together, and I took the liberty to invite him here. Today. In about… twelve minutes.’

‘ _What_?!’ Tony exclaims, moving a step away from Phil and observing his lover scrutinizingly, trying to pick out any sings on an illness. Or an alien mind possession, which is possible according to S.H.I.E.L.D. Phil really doesn’t appear to be joking. ‘Really?’

‘I was hoping that you could stop whining for once and do something _nice_ instead – it’s really important to me.’

‘But why now? Is there something you didn’t tell me about, like the end of the world – wasn’t that supposed to be in December – an asteroid coming to kill us like dinosaurs? Alien ships moving towards the Earth at light speed –’

‘ _Tony_ ,’ Phil interrupts him tiredly, but there’s an amused twinkle in his eyes. ‘No, there world is not going to end soon, at least not to my knowledge – I just spent two weeks meeting with Nick almost every day and talking constantly, no, I’m not going to tell you what about, and it felt unfair, not telling him. I had to stir the conversation on a safer ground several times because of _us_ , and believe me, that is _not_ easy with Director.’

‘O-kay,’ Tony decides, taking a swig of the whiskey. ‘JARVIS, let Fury in and direct him to the penthouse, please.’

‘As you wish, sir,’ the A.I. replies instantly with his perfect British accent.

‘You are a monster,’ Tony states, grabbing Phil’s hand and pulling him closer. ‘But I can forgive you if you’re nice enough,’ he adds, placing a kiss on Phil’s cheek and pulls away to take another sip of his whiskey, ignoring Phil’s stare. ‘I’m not going to do this while I’m completely sober, sorry, this way I’ll be able to pretend it was only my hallucination later –’

‘Just before Nick comes,’ Phil cuts in, locking his fingers around Tony’s wrist firmly, ‘I want you to know that he’s a bastard, but he cares about you, in his own way.’

There is this seriousness and sincerity in Phil’s voice that makes Tony believe him, however crazy that might sound.

Phil glances at the alcohol in Tony’s hand disapprovingly, his stare almost burning Tony’s hand, and he doesn’t have to say anything to make his request clear. Tony puts the glass down and turns around.

‘Oh, are we having a tea party? I thought you do those at five p.m., not past three, but maybe the customs have changes since I last visited England – when was that, three months ago? – ’

‘Alcohol is _fine,_ ’ Phil states, making Tony shut his mouth; really, it’s fine? ‘We’re all supposed to be working later today, I think, but the world won’t implode if we drink something before soiree time,’ Phil continues flatly. ‘I thought you might have something to eat?’

‘I’m supposed to treat _Nick Fury_ of all people with my dear made-with-love food? No way –’

‘Tony, please,’ Phil says. He’s playing with his hands, Tony suddenly realizes. He’s _nervous_.

‘Okay, if that’s gonna make you better,’ he says lightly, pretending he hasn’t noticed anything, and disappears into the kitchen to get the cheesecake. Just as he’s putting the plates and dessert forks onto the tray, JARVIS signals Fury’s entrance with a soft sound.

Tony trusts Phil to handle this. He could tell Pepper on his own terms because Pepper knows him very well – and he knows her – but he does have enough sensitivity to make things easier for Phil. He hasn’t realized Fury was that important to Phil, personally, silly of him. Mental note: pay more attention to what Phil _doesn’t_ say.

Tony offers the tray to one of his new bots – better design, two arms with human-like hands, but they’ll never replace his kids; this one only responds if called _Coconut_ or _Coco_ , Tony doesn’t really know why, but he suspects JARVIS had something to do with that.

When they enter the main space of the penthouse, Phil and Fury are sitting by the bar, sipping Tony’s best whiskey. He doesn’t mind, especially if it’s supposed to make the talk easier; there are a few dozen bottles back in Malibu he could have shipped in ten hours.

‘Stark,’ Fury greets him, raising the glass slightly. Tony sits down across from them and copies the gesture.

‘Fury.’

‘I still don’t know why exactly you wanted me to come here, Phil,’ Director adds, turning to Phil, who is sitting there with perfectly straight face. ‘I’ve already been here –’

‘Have you?’ Phil asks, frowning slightly.

‘I was at the opening gala. You weren’t in the town. No one wants to skip Stark’s party.’

‘Right,’ Phil agrees a little more weakly. ‘Excerpts from New York cuisine, huh?’ he adds in a hushed voice to Tony, eying the cheesecake that Coco has just put on the countertop.

‘I assumed you wanted me here because Stark made some new toys for us,’ Fury says, making the amber liquid in his glass swirl perfectly. ‘And that there would be a presentation.’

‘It’s more of a personal matter, boss,’ Phil says and Fury looks between Agent and Tony with the usual half-scowl on his face, but there is a spark of curiosity is his one eye, Tony notes.

‘I don’t see a personal like between you and Stark,’ Fury declares, taking a sip of the whiskey and pacing the glass on the marble firmly. Tony stifles a laugh. ‘But if you’d like to elaborate, please do.’

‘We are together, sir,’ Phil says, his words firm, but he grips his glass stronger than necessary. And he says _sir_ , not _nick._

Tony waits –

‘I’m sorry?’ Fury says, frowning, and stares at Phil.

– to cover Phil’s hand with his. It makes Agent relax a tiny bit. Tony understands; he was pretty nervous just the same when he was telling Pepper. It probably comes from two things: actually caring about the person you’re talking to – and actually caring about the person you’re talking about.

‘We are together, Nick,’ Phil replies, this time using Fury’s name and that makes Tony smile. ‘ _Romantically_.’

‘You are not kidding me?’ Fury asks, glancing at Tony who smirks challengingly. ‘You are not kidding me.’

‘No, we’re not.’

‘How long has _this_ been going on?’

‘Remember that one time you left me under your favorite agent’s supervision when I was doing my best to make the world remember me as he biggest jackass ever?’ Fury doesn’t say anything, but Tony knows that he does remember. ‘A year ago,’ he adds in case someone couldn’t count. ‘Almost to the day.’

Phil takes his hand from under Tony’s, grabs the glass and takes a big gulp of his drink, half-whiskey half-water at that point.

‘Are you fucking insane, Phil?’ Fury growls, ignoring Tony completely. Tony says nothing, although there are a few things in his head he’s like to voice, but he silently promised Phil to behave. ‘It’s _Stark_ we’re talking about, who’s probably been with all of Playboy’s covers since he was fucking underage, and you’re telling me you and _him_ –’

‘Good to know you’re keeping up with the gossip,’ Tony interrupts, unable to stop himself. ‘And that’s a false assumption. I spent some time in Europe and  they have other magazines with women on the covers there –’

‘You see what I mean?’ Fury questions, shaking his head with disbelief.

‘A year, boss,’ Phil just says, a tiny smile forming on his lips. Tony is _so_ enjoying this.

‘I can’t imagine how –’

‘Then don’t. It’s been working for a year and I thought you’d like to know – so far only Miss Potts knows. And JARVIS,’ Phil adds, glancing at Tony, who grins. He loves it when people treat his A.I. as a human being. ‘You don’t have to say anything and no, I’m not putting it into my S.H.I.E.L.D. personal data. Here –’ he glances at Tony and then at the bot.

‘Coco,’ Tony supplies.

‘Coco, serve Director Fury a piece of cake – that’s why I invited you here, Nick, instead of telling you on Helicarrier. Tony makes mean cakes. Try.’

Fury raises an eyebrow and eats. He tries to keep his face straight, but Tony’s had enough practice with Phil to tell Fury loves the cake.

As soon as the elevator door close behind Director, Tony turns around and glares accusingly.

‘You wanted to use _my_ _New York cheesecake_ to appease Fury after you’ve told him we’re together.’

Phil doesn’t reply.

‘I officially hate you,’ Tony states, crossing arms on his chest and pouting.

‘No, you do not – you _love_ me,’ Phil replies lightly, starting to walk towards the kitchen.

‘… you wish,’ Tony says quickly, glancing at the half-eaten cake.

Phil turns around, his eyes shining, and nods.

 _Oh_ , Tony thinks.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and all your amazing support!  
> [You can find the recipe here.](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/06/new-york-style-cheesecake.html) I wanted to make this for a long time and it turned out really amazing!
> 
>  
> 
> ( + It's my b-day in a month and I'm already thinking of the cake I'm going to make, you know me by now, hah ;p)


	6. 6

 

**May 2012**

 

Clint and Natasha spent the last three days with Phil who asked Tony _explicitly_ not to let anyone know about them – and Tony knows better than to ignore Phil’s words – he’s sneaking into the ward at night. A few nice words and a bouquet of flowers to the nurse on nightshift from Tony Stark himself, apparently that’s the price of getting into Phil’s room without raising an alarm. JARVIS can take care of the security cameras all other bugs that might be planted around the hospital.

‘I thought the visiting hours ended at six,’ Phil says as soon as Tony closes the door behind himself, making as little noise as possible. Phil looks pale and sick with the pillows surrounding him and with his eyes closed, but there’s a small smile in the corners of his lips.

Tony puts a paper bag he’s been holding on the guest’s chair next to the door and in three steps he’s by the bed and kissing Phil’s dry lips.

‘Careful, you don’t want a doctor to come if my heart rate goes off the charts,’ Phil says weakly when Tony pulls away. ‘ _Hey_.’

‘Yeah?’ Tony asks, straightening his back and taking a step back, not to hoover over Phil oppressively.

‘You look worried,’ Phil offers and opens his eyes. The room is bathed in dim light, Tony suddenly notices, dim warm light seeping under the door  and from a tiny lamp at the other side of the room. There are some small colorful lights indicating that various pieces of medical equipment are working exactly like they should; they don’t cast colorful shadows, but they are reflected in Phil’s moist eyes.

‘I’d be a heartless bastard if I weren’t worried, you moron,’ Tony says warmly and grins a bit.

‘You _are_ a heartless bastard,’ Phil counters and then pauses for a long moment. ‘Sometimes. And don’t call me names when I can’t punch you for that.’

‘You wish,’ Tony says quietly, still standing in the same place.

Being here feels surreal, for some reason. Wrong. As if they were playing in a medical drama and not living a real life.

Tony wonders if that’s how Rhodey felt when Tony was looked over by doctors after being found roaming in the middle of the desert. That might have been slightly more dramatic. Tony does dramatic best, even if not on purpose. Though he has to admit that Phil’s take at an alien god was pretty damn impressive, when you ignore the _brave fool_ part.

‘So?’ Phil prompts after a moment of half-silence, filled with the soft murmur of the machinery and a barely audible buzz of the electricity all around.

‘So.’

‘ _Tony_.’

‘Phil.

‘I think we must talk about your stunt with the nuke –’

‘I knew it,’ Tony states, folding his arms. Everyone wants to talk about that now.

‘You knew _what_?’

‘That you, having done something equally stupid, would try to talk about what I did. What I had to do.’

‘You didn’t have to –’

‘Oh yes? And who'd get ride if the bomb, then? Or would you prefer I just let it hit and kill a few million people? ‘Cause that’d have worked out better –’

‘ _Tony_.’

‘I hate when you say my name like that.’

‘You would,’ Phil sighs slightly and turns his head to look straight at Tony. ‘It’s just that – I felt like my heart was going to stop when Nick tell me what had happened. Now I respect Pepper even more for putting up with you for all those years –’

‘She’s something else,’ Tony cuts Phil off; he’s really had enough scolding recently for almost dying again, and it’s not why he came around at all. He takes a few deep breaths, feeling all the bruised ribs aching remotely, and then flashes Phil a smile. ‘You really don’t get to comment on my actions. Alien god, yeah? Let’s call it a draw.’

‘Are we playing a game?’

‘Aren’t we always?’ Tony replies with a question just as his watch tinkles lightly, announcing eleven p.m.

‘I guess we are,’ Phil agrees. ‘But I’m a bit too tired for games.’

‘Phil?’ Tony asks, furrowing his brows slightly. Phil never says he’s tired, just like he never says he’s in pain.

‘We’re overusing our names.’

‘That we are,’ Tony agrees; they hardly ever use their names, really. Mostly, it’s half-hearted insults and terrible pet names. And Phil does call Tony _Stark_ a lot. Tony probably deserves it for calling Phil _Agent_ and pretending he doesn’t remember the name every time they meet in presence of someone else, even if it’s Fury or Pepper. ‘Let’s stop talking,’ he adds and sits on the edge of the bed, feeling Phil’s warm body through the thin sheets.

Phil nods and a second later Tony is carefully wrapping one of his hands around Phil’s wrist, feeling the pulse almost matching his, and kisses Phil again. Phil’s lips taste a bit bitter and dusty, Tony notices placing a second kiss. Phil closes his eyes.

When Tony gets to the third kiss, the door opens.

Tony moves away from Phil, but he’s not as fast as he’d like to, he can’t move too abruptly ‘cause that would probably hurt Phil’s sore chest; when Tony stands straight next to the bed and turns around, he’s greeted with an amused face of the nurse.

‘Just me. I need to change an IV,’ she says, not even hiding the amusement in her voice, and does exactly that. Tony takes a few steps back and observes her quick practiced moves.

‘I –’

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she says before Tony can really try to speak up. ‘I figured you wouldn’t bribe me with flowers and smiles to kill my least favorite patient here – I won’t tell. Have fun, boys,’ she adds and disappears a second later.

‘ _Phil_?’ Tony asks, raising an eyebrow. ‘What about you not wanting anyone to know? Even if she won’t tell anyone, which I’m pretty sure she meant?’

‘I forgot –’

‘No, you didn’t. Do you really miss all the excitement three days after waking up from a near death experience? Really?’

‘I _forgot_ ,’ Phil repeats, sighing lightly. ‘Besides, I don’t have a watch.’

‘You heard mine –’

‘Do you really think I was concentrating on your watch?’

‘…no, I guess not,’ Tony agrees, looking away. He really is exaggerating, it doesn’t matter if the nurse knows. Not in the slightest. What matters is that Phil is okay, even if he’ll have to stay in his bed for at least a week more before he can start any kind of PT. He’s okay. They are okay. It’s still pretty unbelievable. ‘By the way, _the_ _least favorite patient_?’

‘She says I whine,’ Phil explains. Tony can imagine that; he saw Phil with a sprained ankle once. Phil was going crazy with not being able to do his regular job – or anything at all. At least he’s sleeping a lot now, so that his body can rest, and the time passes more quickly. ‘I’m sure they say the same things about you.’

‘Oh, they never got a chance,’ Tony shrugs and walks up to the chair to reach the bag he brought.

‘How so?’

‘You recall, my last surgery was… _cave_ _condition_. So the whole thing was pretty crazy. And before that, I had three surgeries and each time I was drugged for a few days, until my body was pretty much healed up ‘cause Howard thought I’d be too much of a nuisance otherwise –’ Tony stops abruptly, noticing Phil’s hard stare, and smiles tightly. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, right?’

‘You shouldn’t have,’ Phil confirms, observing Tony closely. Tony smiles quickly, again, and turns around to dig something out of the bag. The brown paper bag rustles and the soft sound seems to echo boomingly in the thick silence. ‘Tony, I never ask you –’

‘I’m sorry, that was just plain stupid,’ Tony cuts in, ignoring Phil, and grabs the small box he was looking for, along with a bunch of forget-me-nots. JARVIS’ idea. Phil likes blue. ‘Forget I mentioned him.’

Phil shakes his head slightly and keep staring.

‘This is really neither time nor place for this talk. If I promise you to tell you everything?  And you tell me some of your history? Phil – if there’s one thing I don’t want to discuss right now, it’s my father. Okay?’

‘Yes, okay. Good.’

Tony nods and turns around, showing Phil the things in his hands.

‘You like blue.’

‘How do you know I like blue?’

‘… JARVIS,’ Tony admits, coming up to a small table by the desk and placing the flowers in one of the still empty vases. ‘Aren’t flowers forbidden, by the way?’

‘They are, usually –’

‘But you get special treatment.’

‘It wouldn’t stop _you_ , anyway,’ Phil points out, nodding approvingly at the arrangement Tony has just adjusted the way it stays symmetrical. Phil likes when things are neat and tidy. ‘Just one more question, how is it that you don’t know my whole personal story yet? Don’t tell me you didn’t hack S.H.I.E.L.D., I know you did.’

‘JARVIS knows everything,’ Tony admits sheepishly, sitting on the edge of the bed again. ‘He keeps it to himself. I ask when I need to know something –’

‘Like the flowers.’

‘Like the flowers,’ Tony agrees. ‘But in general, I really don’t look into people’s lives like some kind of a creepy stalker. I have data in case I need it – here,’ he adds, opening the small box. There are a few cookies inside and Phil recognizes them immediately. ‘I have it cleared with your doc, I know you can eat them,’ Tony assures Phil, placing the box in the man’s lap.

‘I’m pretty sure my preference for Peruvian alfajores was not in my file – ah. _Nick_ ,’ Phil states. Tony nods. He really wanted to make something more worthy of a small midnight glad-you-are-not-dead picnic, but transporting a delicate mousse cake or an elaborate seven-layer dessert with edible gold on top would be too troublesome. Sometime in the future. Hopefully, there will be _many_ occasions.

‘Come on, eat,’ Tony nudges Phil’s hand slightly, so Phil takes one of the cookies and bites it carefully. It’s soft and sweet, with a hint of bitter burnt caramel in the thick dulce de leche and some powdered sugar dusted in the top. Just the way it should be.

‘It’s _perfect_ ,’ Phil declares when he finishes the cookie. Tony chuckles knowingly and Phil nods. They share the second cookie and Tony leaves the few remaining ones in the box so that Phil can eat them tomorrow, when Tony can’t be there. ‘You knew exactly what to do to make me feel better.’

‘Magical healing cookie?’

‘I like the sound of that.’

‘It better work, I want to have you at home as soon as possible –’

‘At _home_ ,’ Phil repeats, cocking his head slightly.

All right. There wasn’t any real discussion of that, but honestly. Tony knows Phil has his place near S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, but he spends less time there than in his office. And that’s not including the times when he’s away from New York.

‘I’ve got all the best equipment you might need to help you recovery,’ Tony offers, trying not to sound too hopeful. ‘The best view in the city. JARVIS on your whim 24/7. _Me_ on your whim, well, not 24/7, but you get the idea –’

‘I do.’

‘We could bake cookies together,’ Tony adds quickly. ‘All the time. I even made a special robot specialized in cleaning flour off shiny surfaces.’

‘Of course you would,’ Phil rolls his eyes. ‘Well, if you say cookies, I can’t say no.’

‘I hope so,’ Tony says, giving Phil one last kiss, and stands up. ‘I need to sneak out now. You sleep.’

‘See you tomorrow at eleven,’ Phil says when Tony is closing the door. Indeed, he'll see Phil at eleven.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipe for alfajores is [here](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/06/alfajores.html).
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this overdue chapter :)


	7. 7

 

**June 2012**

 

Tony didn’t really think about what Phil living in one space with him would mean. Sure, they’ve spent a day or two more than a few times, staying _extremely_ close to each other, but it was something different. If you see someone from time to time, you focus on something completely different than the everyday stuff you’re forced to share when you’re _living_ together.

Phil moved in Stark Tower before everyone else because of the lung surgery he had – luckily the spear didn’t hurt his heart – and he needs calm place supervision for some time, in case something happens. All the Avengers are supposed to move in, they just wanted time to wrap up their personal stuff and organize the whole moving in process.

The thing is, Tony gets hurt a lot. It’s a constant when you’re an inventor, something always happens and Tony doesn’t have the patience to engage endless safety protocols - not that they would help… He gets burns and cuts and bruises and that’s perfectly normal, there is first aid kit in the workshop and he has Butterfingers dress the scraps and minor wounds and it’s _fine_.

Only that Phil doesn’t think so and he worries entirely too much and Tony can’t make him stop. Tony’s been trying to distract Phil from being so concerned, but it hasn’t been really not working. It’s absurd because it should be Tony to worry about Phil, serious surgery, rings any bells? But apparently things like that cannot be rationalized.

So Tony came up with such a Tony thing to do.

‘I have a great idea, we’re gonna have a party,’ he states one morning. Phil looks up from his tablet with his eyebrows arched perfectly.

‘ _Stark_.’

‘Agent –’

‘Are we back to name-calling?’

‘You started it,’ Tony pouts, standing in the middle of the big space of the living room. It feels as if each of their breaths echo loudly. ‘You know, a welcome party? The team’s moving in this week and we could have strip dancers –’

‘ _Tony_.’

‘– and shiny confetti and my favorite DJ, he’d love to come over to New York –’

‘Tony, please.’

‘– and I’d have Pepper get me Roseen’s catering, have you tried that, seriously, it’s the best thing I’ve encountered and I’ve eaten lots of food all over the world –’

‘I won’t sleep with you for a _week_ if you don’t shut up.’

Tony does go silent suddenly and sits down because _sleeping_ with Phil doesn’t only mean sex, it means talking for hours and waking each other up from nightmares and cuddling and lots of nice things.

‘I don’t mind a party, but your eardrum-blasting music are _not_ necessary, you moron. Or party hats, in case you’re wondering. We won’t be wearing party hats.’

‘What do I think I am, five?’ Tony pouts, but Phil’s glare says that he thinks exactly that.

‘I don’t know about catering. Do it if you want, but maybe everyone could just make something –’

‘Like a dinner party?’

‘Just like an informal dinner party. And no strippers – well. Just imagine Steve and Bruce with half-naked dancing ladies around.’

‘I’ll claim you use them as an excuse for your own embarrassment, come on, have you ever had a girl walking out a giant birthday cake –’

‘Sometimes I don’t even know why I bother,’ Phil sighs and Tony shuts up because he keeps wondering about that himself; they are total opposites, if you think logically, the only more opposite pair of people Tony can think of in himself and Fury. ‘Okay, so we’ll have a party. With food, some music – JARVIS, can you take care of that?’

‘Of course, Agent Coulson,’ the A.I. replies instantly and Tony smirks because JARVIS’ voice has this hint of smugness that Tony loves and that no one else notices, not even Pepper or Rhodey.

‘We can hang out in the roof garden afterwards,’ Tony adds and Phil smiles at him as if he was slightly surprised. ‘What? I know you guys will all like that place. Great view, like, billion dollar view, and I can have one of the bots serve us fancy cold drinks with tiny umbrellas.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Phil says easily.

That’s a nice change. Tony kind of expected him to say _don’t come up with that crazy Tony Stark things anymore_ ; Tony knows perfectly that Phil prefers him in the calmer homey mode, even if he enjoys Tony being his crazy self in moderate amounts.

‘So, next Monday?’

‘Next Monday,’ Phil confirms.

‘… are we telling them?’

‘I thought we could wait? A few weeks.’

‘It’s not like it’s their business,’ Tony agrees. They talked about it a lot and there’s no special reason for that, but they would both prefer to be Tony and Phil to the very limited number of people for some more time. ‘Good,’ he adds, placing a kiss on Phil’s forehead and standing up. ‘I gotta go to R&D. See you at lunch?’

‘Sure thing,’ Phil agrees and Tony disappears in the corridor.

 

 

At five o’clock on Monday Tony and Phil and coming home from a check-up appointment with Phil’s doctors; everything is healing up fine, which is very good and worth celebrating so Tony takes Phil to his favorite ice-cream place on the Eastern coast.

The dinner is happening around seven so they should still have enough time to take care of everything that wasn’t prepared earlier or by the bots with the two of them were out, but that’s just minor details – and dressing up. Tony’s homemade pop tarts are waiting in the kitchen safely and they are, like Phil said, the most important part of the evening, at least for him. And Tony even managed to make sure Phil didn’t eat any before the big event, which counts as a big success.

So when they enter the penthouse and meet five pairs of eyes staring at them with disbelief they know straight away that something isn’t as it should be _at all_.

‘I tried to stop it,’ JARVIS supplies, his voice ringing in the silent room. Tony vaguely notes that the dinner things are all prepared on the big table, save the dishes that are to be served hot, and the place looks very nice with subtle decorations – _oh_ , he sighs, noticing someone sitting in the back of the room.

‘Did we invite Fury?’ he asks Phil, turning slowly to look at him, but Phil’s face says enough.

‘Not at all,’ Phil replies and shuts his lips tight.

‘That is why I was pretty wounded,’ Fury replies across the room and the Avengers – minus Natasha, because she’s Natasha – all look at him and then back at Tony and Phil as if it were a tennis match.

‘You absolute bastard,’ Tony whines dramatically, knowing that it’s not that much of a big deal, the team _knowing_ , but really, they wanted to choose the right moment and setting themselves, and all the jazz. So they have the right to be annoyed, Tony decides.

‘I wasn’t aware you didn’t share your relationship status with teammates,’ Fury says in a sweet voice and everyone knows he’s lying; the tone is somehow still harsh and intimidating and Fury keeps his face perfectly straight.

There’s a long moment filled with thick silence; the rest of the Avengers seem to be waiting for something and Tony decides that screw everything, if the game is on they can give the audience a show.

‘Agent?’ Tony asks, raising an eyebrow at Phil who offers him a slightest nod.

‘Stark,’ he replies and quickly kisses Tony on the mouth.

‘So whatever Fury told you about us, it’s true, blah blah, did you bring food?’ Tony says quickly. ‘I think Phil mentioned something about your casserole, Hawkeye, it better be good, and Cap, close your mouth and don’t gape at me like that, it’s unbecoming of an American icon. JARVIS, start the ovens, we need some heat in the kitchen, do we have all the ice I wanted ready for the drinks, some people here seem like they’ll need _a lot_ of drinks –’

‘Tony, stop,’ Phil says softly into Tony’s ear, making him stifle a giggle at the tickling sensation around his neck. ‘You’re being too fast. I think they need a moment to wrap their heads around how is it possible that can I stand you,’ he adds, his voice loud enough for the others go hear him, so Tony knows Phil’s playing along. ‘We’ll go and change into some proper clothes and you take your time,’ Phil adds, with a perfectly straight face, and drags Tony back into the elevator.

They come down a few minutes later, dressed in slacks and shirts and ties and the clothes are perfectly matching on purpose. They look really, really good, in Tony’s opinion. JARVIS tells them the same, in his nicely smug voice, and Tony sticks his tongue at the nearest camera because JARVIS always tries to placate Tony with compliments and it totally works.

‘He’s so like you,’ Phil comments, shaking his head is amused disbelief, and Tony grins.

‘’Course he is,’ he agrees and adjusts his tie.

‘May I have one suggestion?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Could you give them some of the pop-tarts _now_? They’ll just eat and stay silent and we can wait for the comments until after inner.  I don’t particularity want to listen to Clint’s questions and Natasha’s comments while eating, believe me, they can be pretty silly sometimes –’

‘Isn’t that just an elaborate scheme to get your hands on my cookies ahead of schedule?’ Tony asks, kissing Phil’s temple and then shoving him into the elevator. ‘You already got dinner almost two hours early, so –’

‘It didn’t really cross my mind, but that’s an excellent idea,’ Phil declares earnestly, making Tony sigh and wonder did he get himself into all this. Phil’s sneaky and Tony loves that, but sometimes he likes to mock being annoyed.

‘I guess we can do that,’ Tony decides when they walk into the living room to find the team standing in a circle and chatting, but then suddenly fall silent when they hear footsteps.

Tony sighs again and then snickers.

‘Come on, schoolgirls, Agent here thinks you need a bribe to stay silent so that he can eat his dinner in peace and I decided to sacrifice some of my finest for the cause,’ Tony says as he walks up to the bar and pours some of his best whiskey into eight glasses, over finely crushed ice. Then he walks up to one of the cupboards behind, opens the lock with a ten digit password and puts the big plate covered with pop tarts on the counter.

They seem unsure about why are they supposed to eat dessert before dinner – poor people, if they have never done that, Tony comments in his head – but Thor is the first one to reach out for the cookie and put in into his mouth.

‘This is a strange delicacy,’ he declares in his loud voice a moment later. ‘Lady Darcy showed me a variety of similar pastries, and many more different kinds, but no one of them tasted quite like this one. Here, try, friends,’ Thor adds, taking the plate in his hands and offering the cookies to teammates. ‘These are most excellent. Where can I acquire them?’

‘You can’t,’ Phil replies instantly, flashing Tony a small grin and nodding at Thor solemnly. ‘Tony made them. He’s an excellent baker.’

‘… I might begin to understand,’ Clint says indistinctly, his mouth full of the crunchy sweet goodness.

‘So I’m brought down to what I bake now, hmm?’ Tony murmurs around his glass. He has to admit that everyone is indeed focused on the food in their hands and mouths.

‘If it works,’ Phil replies quietly, standing next to him and finally taking a bite of the cookie; Tony kisses him just a moment later.

‘You taste like sugar,’ he says and smiles. No one minds them this time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading & I hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> [You can find the pop tarts recipe here.](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/07/homemade-pop-tarts.html)
> 
> Thanks for your patience! I was having an absolutely inspiration-less weeks and I actually baked like ten different things in the meantime, but none of them seemed fitting for this.  
> So there. I actually tries pop tarts like twice in my life, they are sooo expensive here and they only sell one or two flavors. They were _so_ sweet hah. That's why I usually like the homemade stuff better (besides Mars ice cream, it's like the thing, seriously, I think I'll have some b-day ice cream later today ;p)


	8. 8

 

**September 2012**

 

Of course Tony heard the _one time in New Mexico_ story, from first hand even – it’s a  S.H.I.E.L.D. legend – but apparently it didn’t exhaust the possibilities of donuts saving someone’s life. It's pretty fun _afterwards_ , agreed, but it doesn’t seem nice or interesting at all when you’re driving a car across a mostly empty road, in the middle of the night, and then when you stop because you’re human and have physiological needs, a car appears behind yours and over a dozen heavily armed man surround you.

Tony lived through several kidnapping attempts, successful and failed, but one thing that’s sure about this time: the men dressed in black are prepared to take down Iron Man. What they don’t know, of course, that the other person in the car isn’t just a harmless civilian but _Phil Coulson_ himself.

Only that the odds are pretty bad: there seems so be at least five armed goons per person and Tony can’t quite imagine himself knocking them out like that – machine guns, all right? – so he nicely puts up his hands as soon as he’s zipped his fly. There’s maybe a five seconds delay before Phil walks out of the car and obediently puts his hands on the car.

Then they’re both cuffed, get their mouths taped and then land in the back of a big black car. Someone gets into their SUV – Tony can tell that from the sound of the engine – and they drive for almost half an hour.

‘Come out. Move,’ someone shout and Tony and Phil are pushed out of the back of the van and led into an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. How… cliché. And convenient.

In the sickly light of glow-tubes Tony can finally see their captors, all dressed in black, including face masks. There is eighteen of them. Which makes the odds even less favorable. _Ugh_.

Phil catches Tony’s eye and gives him the tiniest nod and Tony almost smiles under the tape: he’s not really scared. Not with Phil. Even if it might be a long time before someone notices the tracker in their car shows an unusual position; Tony wants to curse himself for not installing JARVIS before they left. But then it was supposed to be a trip of the _two_ of them, not three.

The men are talking in hushes tones, one of them takes photos of Tony and Phil as they sit in the chairs they’ve been chained to now and then disappears somewhere.

Phil gives Tony yet another nod a few minutes later, right before the biggest of the men comes up to them and pulls the tape off Tony’s face quickly, leaving the skin underneath tender.

‘You want money? ‘Cause you know, I have money and you can get what you want,’ Tony says quickly before anyone else can speak up, gaining a firm glare from the man.

‘Money would be nice,’ the man says with a thick French accent. ‘Right after you give us answers to some pretty pressing questions.’

‘Well, in that case I hope I have the answers –’

‘Shut up,’ the man barks out and Tony obeys. If he was alone, he’s be more mouthy, but he knows Phil will kill him if he gets into more trouble than necessary. ‘I have planned this for months and now I will make sure you give me my answers, you capitalistic scum –’

‘Boss, phone call for you,’ someone calls across the room in a fearful voice – Tony sympathizes – and the _boss_ grunts, turns around and marches through the hangar, his heavy steps echoing.

‘Look, I found something in their car,’ someone else says and Tony’s heart stops for a fraction of second before he remembers there was absolutely nothing in the car that could give him and Phil away as agents on a super-secret mission. Just a bag with two changes of clothes and some food.

Ah. Food.

‘Look, there was this huge box of fucking _donuts_ , I bet they got them from some _auntie_ on a family party –’

‘Or they were taking them for someone, those fags,’ another voice supplies and Tony almost snickers, but manages to stop himself.

There are twenty donuts and it’s a perfectly reasonable amount to last him ad Phil about 48 hours. Not like they wouldn’t burn twice that many calories during their usual daily workout within a few days. Well. Without this interruption.

Tony can feel Phil’s burning gaze at the back of his head so he turns around and raises an eyebrow. Phil looks at him for a second too long – and then at the donut box. And back at Tony. There’s an intensity to his glare that only Phil could ever muster.

‘Go on, help yourselves,’ he says, observing Phil’s reaction – it’s an _almost smile_ behind the tape that still covers Phil’s mouth. ‘We were actually hoping to get them to our team, they’re special, you know, because I made them and I can assure you there will never be a chance to try my lovely confections again –’ Tony keeps ranting, seeing approval in Phil’s body language.

It seems that the donuts are some kind of a secret rescue thing and Tony loves the idea.

The goons start to look at the donuts with more interest. Good.

‘Yeah, I’m sure you won’t be making any of those soon,’ another man laughs and the others join in, but they do seem eager to see what the fuss is about and a moment later one of them takes a bite, almost getting the chocolate glaze on the mask that’s still on his face.

‘C’mon, they’re good. I don’t give a fuck who made them, but we’re gonna eat them to the last crumb. Scum.’

Tony nods stiffly, trying not to look too smug. There must be some sweet solidarity among the man because everyone takes one donut each and they leave the additional ones – maybe for the boss – and then it’s pretty quiet for a few moments as everyone is chewing and swallowing.

‘No so bad, me, huh?’ Tony asks and someone growls at him again, the low noise sounding almost like thunder, and he’s pretty sure he’d get a slap across his face if the men were standing closer.

The boss comes in a moment later, scowling, and before a minute passes he’s eaten two donuts and shouted at about a dozen people, making them scatter, most of them leaving for the outside.

Then all of them are unconscious in two minutes. Tony guesses he and Phil are lucky that no one opened fire at them but the _kidnappers_ must have been told to keep them alive.

‘I knew no one could resist your cakes,’ Phil says as soon as the last man has dropped to the floor. Tony never noticed when Phil got his hands and his mouth freed in no time. He returns Phil smile and just as Phil is three steps away from his chair, Tony presents his free hands, too. Phil raises an eyebrow.

‘I learned from the best – what did you do?’

‘Had five seconds. Enough for my super-spy sense to kick in and sprinkle some special S.H.I.E.L.D.-made medicament on the donuts. They’ll be out for at least two hours. Depending on the mass,’ he adds, eying one of the tallest man, now almost at their feet.

Tony can’t stop himself anymore so he bursts out laughing, a bit hysterically but he’s just been at a gunpoint a moment ago and while he never doubted Phil had a plan, it’s a relief to be done with the mess. And so quickly.

‘Well, I guess I’m glad you had faith in my baking abilities,’ he says, taking a step closer to Phil and giving him a quick kiss. ‘Now – what do we do now?’

‘I call for a S.H.I.E.L.D. team, they surely can be here before these men wake up. So we go out, take one of their cars –’

‘You’d confiscate it anyway, so that’s fine,’ Tony adds and Phil nods in agreement.

‘– and we drive on like we were supposed to.’

Tony nods, wondering if saying that he doesn’t feel like continuing this little road trip right now would be fine; he really wanted this time away from everyone and everything but under the circumstances the plan doesn’t seem that pleasant anymore.

‘That is, unless you fancy a ride in a mysterious black helicopter to the nearest SI plant we could steal a jet from and go back home,’ Phil adds innocently and Tony keeps straight face, too. He’s been getting better at the game.

‘I’ve got to admit I started missing JARVIS a bit since I last heard from him twenty seven hours ago,’ he replies smoothly and the corner of Phil’s lips twitches just a little.

‘I bet you did. So, we will talk about this… incident with our agents but I want you to know one thing right now?’

Tony makes a _go on gesture_ and returns to massaging his sore wrists. Phil smirks.

‘You’re making me those donuts when we come home. I’ll make sure of that.’

 

 

Tony does make the donuts as soon as they’re back in New York, in fact, he makes a few dozen to be sure there will be enough left for him and Phil after Cap and Thor and the others steal their share. Phil helps; Tony prepares and kneads the dough, they share a few glasses of wine while the dough is proofing – and then he lets Phil cut out the donuts when the it’s rolled and ready, hovering over his lover’s shoulder and refusing to say something actually helpful.

‘So now…’

‘We let them raise for half an hour to let them be as soft as it gets and then we pop them into the oven and let JARVIS tell us when they reach the perfect state.’

‘Isn’t that a bit like cheating?’ Phil asks, furrowing his brow, and Tony pretends to feel offended.

‘Since it’s someone _I_ trained to do this for me, no, it’s not, we did like a few dozen tries before JARVIS knew what he had to look out for, it was a genuine scientific research, I tell you, I’ve even got pie charts and the cooking time noted down to nanoseconds –’

‘Just shut up now, mister scientist,’ Phil orders him and takes off the very manly black apron he’s been wearing in one smooth move. ‘Do you realize this is how we got together?’

‘ _This_?’

‘Donuts,’ Phil adds, making Tony snort.

‘That time after _I am Iron Man_ speech?’

Phil nods.

‘You never told me that,’ Tony stares accusingly, staring at Phil. ‘Why haven’t you told me that before? I actually thought there was nothing to talk about before I was dying –’

‘I figured you were supposed to be a genius and know those things,’ Phil cuts in, with a tiny bit of fondness in his flat voice. ‘Besides, JARVIS knew.’

‘ _What_!?’ Tony bursts out, taking a step back and then giving the ceiling his most scandalized stare. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Agent Coulson’s vital signs indicated –’

‘Thank you, JARVIS,’ Phil cuts in, fixes his eyes on Tony and sighs. ‘Well, you were different that I expected, first time we really met. When you let me know your two big secrets.’

There is a moment of silence before Tony speaks up.

‘Caramel and strawberry, huh?’

‘You remember?’

‘Let’s hope chocolate and vanilla will do it for you, too.’

‘I’d never think otherwise,’ Phil assures him just as the oven pings, signaling that the donuts inside are ready to be taken out and put onto a cooling rack, awaiting finishing touches.

‘I hope you’ll keep liking my pastries for the foreseeable future since they’re half the reason you’re sticking with me,’ Tony teases, placing another baking tray filled with the ring-shaped dough inside the oven.

None of them has any doubts.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipe for chocolate donuts with vanilla filling (& other variations) [is here](http://everything-is-poetry.blogspot.com/2013/09/chocolate-baked-donuts.html)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for your patience with me & I'm sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway! I'm always happy to hear from you <3


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